


Soft Spot

by yours_eternally



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Restraining with Hands, Smoking, Vaping, tiny bit of humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:40:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24241453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally/pseuds/yours_eternally
Summary: ‘Don’t get excited,’ Ricky says, smirking as he exhales smoke through his nose.‘Or what?’ Ryan murmurs, fingertips still resting on Ricky’s knee. Ricky feels a prickle of heat. He knows Ryan’s joking. And he knows it’s dumb idea. There’s no time and the smoking area of a club is hardly a private location. But the adrenaline from the show has yet to dissipate and the nicotine from a real, honest-to-god cigarette is giving him a bit of a headrush.Ryan has a bad show and Ricky has an idea of something he can do to take his mind off it.
Relationships: Ricky "Horror" Olson/Ryan Sitkowski
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Soft Spot

Ricky slips through the cracked fire door into the smoker’s area at the back of the venue. After they’d got off stage he’d seen Ryan slope off, vape in hand and radiating irritation, and this is Ricky’s best guess where he’d gone. He had stopped himself from dropping his guitar into his tech's hands and following after Ryan immediately with difficulty. The show had gone… _not great_. The crowd were restless and Ryan had snapped a string three songs in, which seemed to have thrown him off for the entire set.

Ryan’s sitting at the other end of the shelter, beneath the only outside light that flickers dully as Ricky approaches him. It’s raining and it's making that smoothing, rattling sound against the roof of the plastic shelter.

The plastic was clear originally but the venue must have paid someone graffiti tattoo art all over it instead. It’s kind of cool. Ricky says as much to Ryan, letting his fingertips trace along the back of a huge orange and black Koi.

‘Huh…’ he mumbles back, flinching and sitting up scrubbing a hand over his face. Ricky smirks, realising he’s apparently interrupted a power nap.

‘I said the artwork looks cool,’ Ricky says, grinning at him. Ryan smiles back hazily, chipped black-painted thumb nail scratching the side of his mouth.

‘Yeah, I took a picture,’ he says, pointing just above Ricky’s shoulder, ‘—I want that one.’ Ricky turned to inspect the stylised rose with interest.

‘Where are you gonna have that?’ he says, turning back to him and trotting over to sit in the bench seat perpendicular to Ryan’s so they’re both bunched in the corner, knee to knee.

‘Dunno,’ he says, shrugging as he takes a drag form his vape, ‘my back, maybe.’

‘Or your dick,’ Ricky suggests, smiling innocently, as Ryan snorts out a plume of smoke. ‘—gimme,’ Ricky says, stretching his fingers for the vape in Ryan's hand.

Coming into the smoker’s area might have been a mistake as Ricky now wants a cigarette so badly the butts in the overflowing ashtray look tempting. Ryan takes another drag before handing it over and Ricky brings it to his lips, acutely aware of the fact Ryan’s mouth had been exactly where his is now a moment before. He inhales and the weird chemical taste sticks in his throat and he chokes, spluttering with his eyes pricking with tears.

‘You okay there?’ Ryan says, patting circles on his back and laughing as Ricky lets him take the vape back.

‘God, what even is that?’ Ricky says, still trying to suck in air, wiping his eyes and managing to smudge his black eye make-up all across the back of his hand.

‘Vanilla chai.’

‘Gross,’ Ricky says and Ryan laughs softly, eyes on where Ricky’s hands were hanging between his legs. He scratches the stumble on his chin, mouth curving. Ricky glances at him then lets his eyes skate away, Ryan seems to have calmed down but Ricky sort of just needs to check. Ricky wets his lips.

‘So,’ Ricky starts, ‘sometimes the show just goes to shit and it’s nobody's fault, right.’

‘And sometimes,’ Ryan says, rubbing a hand over his face again and sighing heavily, ‘it’s definitely me. I’m sorry.’

‘Everyone fucks up,’ Ricky shrugs, then he smiles a bit, ‘—at least you didn’t walk off.’

‘Well, not everyone is so fucking dramatic,’ Ryan says, grinning at Ricky who rolls his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, not dramatic?’ Ricky says, grinning back, ‘sure, and never have I ever _asked to speak to the manager_.’

‘That was _one_ time!’ Ryan says, straightening up indignantly, ‘and it totally wasn’t like that, _they_ asked _me_ if I wanted—’ but Ricky’s laughing too hard to listen and Ryan laughs too, shaking his head. Ryan looks a little happier and Ricky’s relieved. They subside into quiet. Ryan takes another drag, looking at the vape thoughtfully.

‘Hey Rick, can you keep a secret?’ he asks and Ricky nods, amused by his sudden seriousness. Ryan leans up, peering behind Ricky to check there’s no one hanging around the half open door before sliding his hand into his stained waistcoat. He produces a packet of cigarettes like he’s drawing a pistol and Ricky fake gasps at Ryan’s theatrics.

Ryan grins, sticking two in his mouth to light before passing one to Ricky. Ricky takes a drag and it’s like his first breath. He groans deeply, letting his head thunk back against the plastic barrier behind him. _Fuck yeah_. It feels like he’s melting into the bench. He groans again, revelling.

‘Shut up, man,’ Ryan says, pushing his knee lightly.

‘Don’t get excited,’ Ricky says, smirking as he exhales smoke through his nose.

‘Or what?’ Ryan murmurs, fingertips still resting on Ricky’s knee. Ricky feels a prickle of heat. He knows Ryan’s joking. And he knows it’s dumb idea. There’s no time and the smoking area of a club is hardly a private location. But the adrenaline from the show has yet to dissipate and the nicotine from a real, honest-to-god cigarette is giving him a bit of a headrush.

He shifts and Ryan takes his hand back absently. They lapse into silence. It’s relaxing; the rain and their breathing and Ryan’s familiar presence beside him.

Ryan takes a final drag and stubs the butt. Ricky stands quickly, flicking the remains of his cigarette as well; whatever he’s planning it’s got to be now or not at all.

‘Does this lock?’ he asks, going over to the door and glancing back to Ryan.

‘Yeah,’ Ryan says, nodding, ‘the guy said not to take the wedge out.’ Ricky nods too, putting his heel on the doorstop to kick it loose and letting the door click closed.

‘What are you doing?’ Ryan says, frowning at him, ‘it’s fucking raining, we’ll have to walk around to the entrance.’ Ricky wets his lips turning back to him.

‘I’ll make it worth it,’ Ricky says. He puts a hand under his hair to shake it out a bit. Ryan’s staring at him, lips slightly parted. His eyes flick down Ricky’s body as he moves closer again.

‘Now?’ he says when Ricky stops in front of him.

‘Yeah, if you want to,’ Ricky says.

‘Sure, okay,’ he says, slightly breathless, as he stands and ducks his head so Ricky can lean up to kiss him without effort. Ricky holds his waist, kissing him slowly savouring the taste of the cigarette still on his lips. He slides his hands under Ryan’s waistcoat to twist in the back of his shirt as they kiss. Ryan angles his head, letting his tongue slide into Ricky’s mouth, as he cups the back of his head. The other hand is hooked though his belt, pulling Ricky’s hips into his. Ricky moans softly as Ryan’s kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

‘Don’t,’ he mumbles, feeling Ryan running his tongue along his throat, ‘the paint—’

‘I don’t care,’ Ryan tells him, hands smoothing up his back so Ricky’s body is flush against him. Ricky groans, arching, enjoying the pressure of Ryan’s hands. He can feel Ryan’s hard, his dick pressing into his stomach. Ricky kisses his cheek, feeling his stubble on his lips, then the side of his mouth trying to coax Ryan back to his mouth.

Ryan kisses him until Ricky pulls back a little, fingertips finding the top button on his shirt. Ryan stops him after two buttons but it’s enough for him to get his mouth on clean skin. He mouths along Ryan’s chest and collar bone as Ryan’s hands slide onto his ass, squeezing appreciatively. Ricky kisses his mouth again before letting the hands on Ryan’s waist move lower.

‘Is this okay?’ Ricky asks, leaning back enough to smirk at Ryan as his hand finds his waistband. He can feel Ryan lean into the touch slightly.

‘Sure,’ he says, laughing as Ricky pops the button, ‘who needs foreplay?’

‘We’re under a bit of a time crunch here,’ Ricky says. Ryan’s eyes glittering as he smirks back. Ricky feels another prickle of heat and suddenly he’s not in the mood to let the sarcasm slide.

He stops what he’s doing to pull Ryan’s hands off him. He takes each of Ryan’s wrists in his hands and puts them behind his back, so he’s awkwardly hugging him. Then he catches both Ryan’s wrists in one of hand, pinning them between his thumb and two longest fingers.

‘No,’ he says, quiet but firmly against Ryan’s cheek when he pulls a little at the light restraint. Ryan huffs out a breath but Ricky’s sure he’s got the message. He can feel the tendons in his wrists flexing as he tries to keep himself contained. Ricky bites his lip, feeling his pulse pick up.

He raises his other hand to grip Ryan’s chin to get him to look at him, checking him over. Ryan’s flushed but his eyes are focused; dark and glossy in the low light. _Okay. Playtime._

‘This is what smart-mouthing me gets you,’ Ricky explains, carefully, eyes on Ryan’s as he squeezes his wrists. ‘Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Ryan says, eyes flickering to Ricky’s lips.

‘Good,’ Ricky says and let’s his chin go, putting his free hand between Ryan’s thighs to feel the outline of his dick through his jeans. Ryan grunts, body curling into the touch. His head sinks onto Ricky’s shoulder, rutting his hips a little against the hand Ricky has on his clothed cock.

Ricky swallows. He’s hard as well, cock straining in his jeans. The feeling of Ryan squirming is sending heat twisting through his gut. He kisses Ryan again, nipping his lower lip as he pulls away. He pulls down Ryan’s jeans and underwear, awkward and one-handed; just enough to get a hand around his cock. Ryan hisses softly, hands balling into fists but not pulling loose.

Ricky starts working him in slow, easy strokes. He can feel Ryan puffing hot breaths into his neck. He licks his palm as he kisses Ryan’s cheek. When he puts his hand back on him, Ryan whines into his neck and it feels too good for Ricky to tell him off. He grunts, taking the hand off him again to open his own jeans. But Ryan shifts mumbling, moving with Ricky’s hand trying to keep in on him.

‘Wait. Stop it.’ Ricky says, tightening his grip on his wrists warningly. ‘Keep still.’

‘Then stop fucking teasing,’ Ryan mutters and Ricky catches his chin again. He takes a breath, to get himself back in control. Ryan’s whiny tone is going straight to his cock, so much so that he can practically feel his pulse pounding through it. Ricky swallows.

‘If you can’t wait, I’m going to stop right now, and you can put your dick away and walk out of here,’ Ricky says, ‘—where everyone can see you.’

‘Don’t,’ Ryan mumbles softly at the words. Ricky can see his cheeks are mottled with a flush.

‘Then behave,’ he says, ‘like I know you can.’ He drops his hand from Ryan’s chin and unbuttons his own fly. Ryan shifts in his grip, obviously wanting the use of his hands back, when Ricky licks his palm again and takes his hold of his own cock, starting to stroke it easily. Ricky bites his lower lip, hips twitching into his hand. He’s hot and sensitive and holding onto Ryan like this while he touches himself feels incredible.

‘Rick, _fuck_ , let me please—’ Ryan says, straining, eyes on the hand Ricky’s got on himself.

‘I said no,’ Ricky says simply. Before he can complain more, Ricky pulls the other closer into him, getting them aligned so their cocks are pressed together inside his spit-slick fist. Ryan moans, burying his head in Ricky’s neck again, letting Ricky take his weight as he leans into him. Ricky can feel Ryan’s hips flexing into his hand and it’s making it difficult to keep his focus on what he’s doing. His brain is a blur of sensations and a blinding light is starting to eat at the edge of his vision. Ryan’s panting hard.

‘Rick, I’m—’ he says, between gulping breaths. Ricky can feel his mouth wet on his neck.

‘Come then,’ he says, trying to keep his voice even, ‘come for me.’ Ryan makes a muffled sound and Ricky can feel him go rigid as he does. And just like that it’s too much. The feeling of Ryan’s come on the bare skin of his cock drags him over the edge and Ricky comes, gasping, back arching.

He takes a breath, swaying a little and he can hear the other humming softly. He must have let go of Ryan’s hands at some point because he can feel Ryan’s got his arms around him. Ricky takes another breath, all he can smell is Ryan, sweat and sex, and smoke. He straightens with an effort and Ryan loosens his arms. Ricky wipes his hands down his jeans, figuring they’re going to get soaked in the rain anyway, and fixes his clothes.

‘How you doing?’ he asks, watching as Ryan does the same.

‘I’m good,’ Ryan says, glancing at him and smiling. ‘That was…um... cool.' He shrugs, smiling more and flushing. Ricky moves closer to him to kiss. Ryan kisses him back, hands coming up to hold his head. After a long moment, they break apart.

‘Do you have a bruise?’ Ricky asks, remembering belatedly that Ryan plays guitar for a living.

‘Doesn’t look like it,’ Ryan says, letting Ricky unbutton and pull up his sleeves to inspect his skin one at a time. ‘—disappointed?’ Ryan asks, smirking as he combs his fingers through the end of Ricky’s hair. Ricky shakes his head, although the small red mark where his thumb had been digging into the skin on Ryan’s inner wrist gives him more of a thrill than he’s willing to admit.

‘We need to get back,’ Ricky says, though all he wants to do is let Ryan kiss him more.

‘Yeah,’ Ryan agrees, ‘I need to shower.’ Ricky feels his mouth twitch but doesn’t say anything as he pulls his phone out and sees Chris has been blowing it up for the last 20 minutes. He rolls his eyes and taps to call back, bringing the phone to his ear, as they slip through the gap in the shelter’s panels to make their way to the front of the venue.

The rain is shockingly cold on his skin but he can feel Ryan’s hand on his shoulder. Chris picks up on the second ring.

**Author's Note:**

> Um, so, as is becoming increasingly apparent, I'm a total sucker for a rarepair... (every fandom I write for this happens🤦), my only evidence Ricky gave up smoking is I haven't seen him do it in ages 🤷 and finally, yes, I did spend an entire afternoon at the editing stage of this fic googling those VIP line-up photos to get a visual sense of how much taller Ryan is than Ricky... and for no other reason.
> 
> [xyours-eternallyx](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xyours-eternallyx) on tumblr 🙌


End file.
